


Caught My Attention

by kassio



Series: Just Give Me a Reason [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Famous Harry, M/M, Musician Harry, Non-Famous Louis, One Night Stands, Professor Louis, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 15:51:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12535424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kassio/pseuds/kassio
Summary: Reason #27 - Your one chance with a celebrity.When he managed to stop ogling Harry's body and look up, the first thing Louis noticed was that Harry’s face was probably the most perfect face he’d ever seen. He’d seen him in that film, but he was even better in person. Maybe it was the smile.The second thing he noticed was that that smile was directed athim.He’d been caught staring. Harry’s smile only widened when Louis locked horrified eyes with him. He tilted his head curiously, and his eyes flicked down Louis’ body. “Who’s this?”Louis had been around long enough to know when someone was checking him out. He hadn’t expected to see that look fromHarry fucking Styles.





	Caught My Attention

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Temporary Fix, of course!
> 
> Thank you so much to beta [elsi-bee](http://elsi-bee.tumblr.com) for all your help cleaning this up and for giving me the confidence to go through with it! You're awesome.
> 
> By the way - oddly, this starts out in kind of a similar way to #20. Just a weird coincidence! It’s funny that we both independently started out with a similar framework but I think they’re pretty different stories from there.

 Louis had been looking forward to this concert for weeks. Finally, a proper night out with some proper good music, and to top it all off, his sister was coming all the way from London to join him. Lottie had planned it all out: she had a week in New York for work and then she’d come see Louis at his new place in Boston.

He should have known it wouldn’t work out so neatly.

“You’re not coming?!”

“I’m so sorry, Lou. It’s Katy Perry! Her makeup artist fell ill, and they asked me to fill in since I’m in town, and imagine if she liked me and hired me. It’s an incredible opportunity.”

“No, no, I know.” Louis sighed. “Of course you need to do it. But, like. You don’t think you could do the makeup and then head up here?”

“Louis, the drive is like four hours.”

“Is it really?”

He could practically hear Lottie roll her eyes. “You’ve lived there for how long and you don’t know how far it is to New York?”

“I’m busy,” he said defensively. “I haven’t had any time to get to New York. And I’ve only been here for a few months.”

“You’re so lame. Well, I’m really sorry. I can still come see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, cool, of course. Maybe I’ll just make it an early night and rest up for tomorrow, then.”

“Are you thinking of not going?” Lottie asked sharply.

“I don’t know. I haven’t got anyone to go with and I don’t care about the headliner, so.”

“Did you not listen to his album like I told you to? I really thought you’d like it. Okay, whatever, that’s not the point. You have to go see Niall’s band! You like them and you have to say hi for me and tell them I’m sorry I wasn’t there!”

“I have to what now?”

“Talk to them after the show,” she insisted. “Tell them I’m sorry. Go hang out with them on my behalf.”

“What? No. Text them if you have something to say! They’re not going to want me hanging out with them, either.”

“Just texting isn’t the same, and of course they will. I’ve told them all about you and they’d love to meet you. Please please please, Louis. It was so important to me to be there and support them, and I haven’t seen them in _ages_ and this really sucks. Please go talk to them after. Look, I’ll send you the details for my ticket. You can take someone else. Bring a friend. It’ll be a great show. Pleeeaaase.”

Louis was silent for a bit, considering. “You’re buying _all_ my drinks tomorrow if I have to go up to these strangers and make a fool out of myself.”

“Done,” Lottie said immediately.

“Sometimes I hate that you make more money than me.”

“But sometimes I buy you stuff and then you don’t?” she asked smugly.

“Yeah, something like that.”

They chatted a little more but said their good-byes a few minutes later. Louis let out a heavy sigh then, tossing his phone on his desk and slumping back in his chair. He looked around his tiny office as if it held any answers, but the messy table, book-lined shelves, and ugly beige walls gave him no guidance.

 _Bring a friend,_ Lottie had said, as if it were that easy.

Louis had only moved to Boston a couple months ago. He was so happy to be here. He was one of the lucky ones, he knew. After two years of postdoctoral research, he’d managed to land a tenure-track position, and it was even in a reasonably cool place. Some of his friends hadn't gotten academic jobs at all. Others had ended up teaching at middle-of-nowhere schools in conservative flyover states. He was lucky, _so_ lucky, to be in New England, in a vibrant little city, just a short flight across the Atlantic from England and his family.

Just. Well. It wasn’t New York or London or San Francisco or LA. He didn’t _know_ anyone here – and he was quickly finding that making friends wasn’t easy for a young professor.

Most of the other professors were much older than him. He didn’t mind having older friends, but they didn’t necessarily have a lot in common outside of their professional interests; it wasn’t the kind of friendship he craved. He couldn’t just mingle socially with the students the way he had even as a postdoc. Suddenly, he was in a position of authority. There had to be a little distance.

But, shit, it was difficult. He was only 32. Many of the grad students in his department were in their late twenties, and a few of them were right there with him in their thirties. A few weeks ago he’d optimistically gone to a single gay professionals mixer and one of his grad students had been there. _Mortifying._ They’d locked eyes across the room, stared at each other in horror, and quickly fled through different exits. He obviously could never show his face there again, and he had to think hard about how to find a date or even a friend without running into students in a city stuffed full of universities.

There was a postdoc in his department named Liam who seemed friendly enough to him, although he was pretty sure he annoyed Liam at least a quarter of the time. He frowned, trying to remember whether Liam was pissed off at him at the moment or not. Also, could his pride handle inviting Liam to the shitty pop concert that he was being forced to attend?

He rubbed his eyes. Whatever. It was one night. It was fine. He should be writing a paper, not worrying about his non-existent social life. Perhaps a social life should wait until after tenure anyway. Infamous social butterfly Louis Tomlinson could live without friends for the next six years, right?

 

* * *

 

In the end, Louis went to the show alone. He couldn’t quite bring himself to ask Liam, and he didn’t know who else to ask. It was fine, though. If any of his students saw him, he might have to fling himself into the sun, but barring that, he reckoned that no one would care about the one guy alone in the crowd.

The venue was one he already knew, surprisingly enough, a sizable but not massive place. He got there half an hour after doors, figuring that this would let him get reasonably close to the stage without having to stand around being lonely for ages. He grabbed a beer from the bar, walked into the theatre, and said, “Well, shit.”

The place was packed, already a good three-quarters full. He wasn’t getting anywhere _near_ the stage.

He was able to press forward into the crowd a bit, but that didn’t get him far. He stopped to sip his beer and scope out the crowd.

He’d dressed concert-appropriate in tight black jeans, boots, and a black Nirvana t-shirt. He still had his hair in his usual professorial style, gelled back from his face – he couldn’t be bothered to restyle it after work to something more casual – but he thought it looked all right with his outfit.

He’d expected to fit right in. He didn’t, mostly because he was completely surrounded by young women. There were a few men sprinkled through the crowd, but they were the exception. The crowd was almost entirely girls, and young ones at that – most of them had a big black X drawn on one hand indicating that they were too young to even drink.

Louis took a swig of his beer and grimaced. He was used to the feeling of being surrounded by veritable children, as he taught undergraduate classes, but he tried to avoid it on his nights out. He  really should have expected this – the headliner _was_ an alumnus of a somewhat popular boy band, after all – but he just hadn’t thought it through. Now here he was in a crowd that smelled like teen spirit, all alone. Great.

He distracted himself with his phone until, finally, with a flash of lights and a cheer from the crowd, Niall’s band came on. For an hour, he lost himself in the music. Louis had loved the first couple songs they’d released on an EP, but this was his first time hearing the new tunes on their debut album. They were absolutely terrific. Niall was full of energy, bouncing around the stage. He strummed a guitar through some songs but just sang for others. Louis didn’t really know who was who in the rest of the band but they all did a brilliant job as far as he was concerned.

Then – too soon – it was over. Louis made his way through the crowd, out into the lobby, out the doors. He’d stick around to say hi to Niall and the rest of the band later. Probably. He didn’t have to do it _here,_ though, listening to pointless pop music in a fanatical teenage crowd, not when there was a perfectly good bar across the street.

After two pints, a few chats with the bartender, and a lot of stupid phone games, he reckoned he should go back in before it was all over since Lottie had charged him to hit up the merch table for her.  

When he got back into the lobby, though, the strangest thing happened.

The music coming out of the theatre sounded… pretty good. It was energetic, it was _rock,_ with wailing guitars and crashing drums and a beautiful voice soaring over it all. It was not at all what he had expected.

Merch forgotten, he made a beeline for the theatre doors and let himself in to stand at the back of the crowd and gawk.

All he’d known about Harry Styles was that he was the second-most-popular member of a flash-in-the-pan British boy band. Nobody had told him that the guy had become a bloody rock star.

Louis couldn’t see him terribly well from the back of the theatre, but Harry Styles owned the stage. He prowled and twirled, he howled and he crooned. His hair seemed curly, the ends grazing his chin – Louis had expected short hair like he’d had in that one movie a while back – and he might have been wearing a blouse. His shirt was long-sleeved and bright red, flowing and shimmery. He had a full band with him, two men and two women, all of them seeming lost in the music.

The hard-driving rock song ended to screams and cheers that only intensified when the band walked off the stage. “Aw, no,” Louis said, too quiet for anyone around him to hear. Had he just missed an amazing show? He was an idiot.

Nobody around him was leaving, though. He felt a bit of hope in his chest. If there were an encore, he’d get to hear another song or two. And – yes, there came the band, grinning and whooping back to the stage. They played one slow, poignant song, then another high-energy song that got the crowd jumping and shouting, and then it was all over.

Louis shuffled out with the rest of them and found himself a wall in the lobby to lean against. Okay. So he had maybe missed a cool show. Whatever. He hadn’t come for Harry Styles and company. He had a mission – a mission, he suddenly realized, that he had no idea how to fulfill.

He pulled out his phone and wrote to Lottie, _Show’s over. How am I supposed to find your friends???_

It took a few minutes for her to respond. He added, _If you don’t text me back I’m just going to leave._

 _Wait!!_ she wrote. _Trying to reach Niall._

Then a few minutes later: _Go to the stage door. Be there in 5 minutes and someone will let you in._

_I don’t know where the fucking stage door is!_

She sent him an eye-roll emoji. _Go round the corner and look for a crowd of fans lurking somewhere. Duh._

 _You suck,_ he wrote back, but she was right: it was pretty obvious once he knew to look for it.

There was already a dense crowd clustered around a door that would have been unobtrusive were it not cordoned off. He lit a cigarette and waited a few feet away from the rest of the fans. _This is absurd,_ he texted Lottie. _Why am I doing this?_

_Cuz you love me! And it’ll be fun!!!_

He sighed out a plume of smoke. A couple more minutes, then he was out of here.

The door opened.

The crowd screamed, but the sound quickly fell away when they realized that it was only a security guard poking his head out. He called, “Louis? Is there a Louis T out here?”

“Shit – oi, yeah, that’s me,” Louis said, waving his cigarette, then tossing it on the ground and stamping it out.

“Let him through!” the security guard barked, waving people aside. Louis pushed his way through the reluctantly parting crowd, ignoring the glares and the murmurs of, “Who is _he?”_ Quickly, he was inside, the door closing behind him. The guard gestured him down a rather grim-looking hallway. With a shrug, Louis walked down the hall. He assumed that the halfway-open door was his destination. No sooner had he peeked into it than he was wrapped up in a sudden, firm hug.

“Louis, man! Great to meet you!” an Irish-accented voice yelled in his ear. Niall Horan stepped back, grinning and clapping Louis on the shoulder. “Glad you’re here. Lottie thought you might ditch us.”

Louis smiled back. He was as baffled as ever, but Niall’s easy geniality put him at ease. “Yeah, I don’t know what I’m doing here, mate, but Lottie insisted I had to come personally apologize for her not being here.”

“Eh, well, Katy P, right, it’s a big deal.” Niall shrugged. “I get it, I get it. Come on, sit down, have a beer. Meet the band. Guys, this is Louis, Lottie Tomlinson’s brother!”

The eyes of the woman on the sofa lit up. “Oh my god, I love Lottie. How cool!”

“This is my assistant, Kim,” Niall began. “And this is our other Niall.”

A giant of a man waved at him from an armchair. He had _very_ large muscles. Not always Louis’ thing, but, well, very impressive, and very hard to miss with him waving his big arm around like that. “That’s me. They call me Bressie, though.”

“And over there we’ve got Gerry and John,” Niall concluded, pointing to two other men who called out their own greetings.

“All Irish, huh?” Louis asked.

“Hell yes, and proud of it,” Niall said. “If only we weren’t slumming it on tour with a bunch of English wankers.”

“Seriously, mate?” a deep-voiced man laughed.

Louis glanced up and froze. That was Harry Styles. Harry Styles had just walked into the room.

“Yeah, seriously,” Niall snickered, dodging when Gerry threw a drumstick at him.

Louis stared as Harry bantered with Niall’s band. He knew he shouldn’t, but there was just so much to look at.

Harry was shirtless and barefoot, dressed only in a pair of low-slung blue jeans that clung to his strong-looking thighs. They weren’t even _buttoned,_ revealing a glimpse of a black elastic waistband underneath. Harry’s torso was hairless but tattooed, long and lean, with sculpted abs that flexed when he laughed. Harry put his hands on his hips, which drew Louis’ attention to the narrowness of his waist, the gracefulness of his hands, then the cords of muscles in his forearms, and, shit, shit, he needed to get a hold of himself.

He wrenched his eyes up from Harry’s body to his face. The first thing he noticed was that Harry’s face was probably the most perfect face he’d ever seen. He’d observed that Harry was gorgeous in that film he’d been in, but he was even better in person. Maybe it was the smile.

The second thing he noticed was that that smile was directed at _him._ He’d been caught. Harry’s smile only widened when Louis locked horrified eyes with him. He tilted his head curiously, and his eyes flicked down Louis’ body. “Who’s this?”

Louis tried to control his face, but he was fairly sure his eyebrows had still shot halfway up his forehead. He’d been around long enough to know when someone was checking him out. He hadn’t expected to see that look from _Harry fucking Styles._ Hadn’t the guy dated Taylor Swift a while back?

“Oh, that’s Louis. He’s Lottie Tomlinson’s brother,” Niall announced. “He’s a good lad.”

Louis snorted. “I’ve barely been here long enough to say two words. You don’t know that.”

“Eh, we know Lottie, though. If she says you’re cool, then you’re cool.”

Harry nodded. “That’s true. I’ve only met her once, but her reputation preceded her, of course.” He stepped close enough to offer a hand to shake. “I’m Harry. Nice to meet you.”

Louis shook Harry’s hand and tried very hard not to think about what nice hands they were, strong but surprisingly gentle with their grip. “Louis,” he said and immediately felt like an idiot since he’d already been introduced.

“Did you enjoy the show?” Harry asked.

“Um, yeah, it was sick.”

“Sick.” Harry grinned, a little lopsided. “All right. So what’re we doing, everyone? Are we going out?”

“Maybe if you put some bloody clothes on,” Niall said.

“I don’t want to, though.”

Niall locked eyes with Louis. “Don’t let anyone tell you that celebrities are better than us. He is a literal child.”

“Hey!”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Louis laughed.

“Do you know any good places to go?” Harry asked, turning to Louis again. “Wait, I don’t know why I’m assuming you live here. You’re not even American.”

“I actually do live here, but I just moved here. I know a few shitty dive bars on the other side of town, but that’s pretty much it.”

“I’m gonna find us an Irish pub,” Bressie announced, pulling out his phone.

“Jesus, not again,” Kim sighed.

“Well, if any of you were more proactive, maybe we’d go somewhere else,” Niall said.

Minutes later, Louis found himself sandwiched between Niall and Kim in the back seat of an SUV, with Bressie up front by the driver. He still wasn’t sure why he was being included but he didn’t mind going with the flow and seeing what would happen. “So how do you know my sister, anyway?” he asked.

Niall frowned pensively. “I’m not even sure anymore. Some people you just see around a lot, you know?”

“Some friends of mine had her do their makeup for a few shows in London,” Kim added.

“She actually did do us once, too. Must’ve been dead boring for her, honestly, just slapping some powder on our faces,  but she’s always a laugh. Very calm when it gets hectic backstage. That’s key.”

“Yeah, I don’t know how she’s like that,” Louis said.

“You’re not?” Niall asked.

Louis snorted. “I believe I was once called a ‘hyperactive little shit,’ so, no.”

“Well, good thing you’re not a celebrity makeup artist, I guess,” Kim said. She grinned. “Did she ever practice on you?”

“Oh, no, thank god. We’ve got four little sisters, so she used them. Poor things. Those early years… walking around the house looking like clowns.” Louis shook his head.

“Do you have pictures?” Niall demanded. “Please tell me you’ve got pictures.”

“Not with me, but probably somewhere, yeah.”

“Give me your phone. I’m gonna give you my number. I need you to find them and text them to me,” Niall said seriously.

Louis handed his mobile over. “What, just so you can give her shit about it?”

“Yeah, obviously.”

“All right, all right. I can get behind this.”

The car rolled to a stop and they all piled out onto the sidewalk. Louis followed as Niall flagged down a server, who led them to a little back room with a few tables, everything done up with dark wood and green accents. “This’ll do just fine,” Niall said cheerily. He spoke quietly to the server while Bressie started dragging tables around. Louis helped him move chairs, then took a seat once it was all arranged.

They settled in, Louis listening curiously and occasionally throwing in a question as they discussed the gig. A server brought pitchers of beer and glasses. As they were pouring and handing pints around, Harry finally showed up, trailed by a tall, dark-haired man and a woman with bleached-orange hair. Harry immediately sat down in the empty chair next to Louis and grabbed his pint.

“What the fuck,” Louis gasped. “You just stole my beer.”

Harry shrugged and took a drink. “Well, I probably bought it, so technically it’s kind of mine.”

Louis narrowed his eyes.

“Where’s Sarah and Mitch?” Niall asked.

“They didn’t feel like coming out. Don’t know why. Louis, this is Clare and Adam. Guys, this is Louis. He’s Lottie Tomlinson’s brother.”

Adam shrugged, taking a seat himself. “Who?”

“She’s a makeup artist,” Niall said proudly. “And a friend of mine. She was supposed to be here but she’s doing Katy Perry’s makeup tonight.”

“Oh, that’s cool. Nice to meet you, man.”

“Yeah, same.”

Louis was able to keep up with and participate in the conversation well enough, thank god. He’d been a little worried that they’d just talk about famous people and really technical musician things, but that wasn’t the case. They ate chips, drank beer, and chatted aimlessly about everything ranging from football to favorite bands, from London’s best food to America and Britain’s worst politicians. It was a lot like any other night out with friends, and Louis had desperately missed those.

He tried not to pay too much attention to the man next to him, because it was just too weird. He’d never been a fan of Harry’s boy band, but he knew who the guy was. It was inevitable: he _did_ have little sisters. He’d already been off at university by the time Harry’s band was breaking out, but he’d still been exposed to some of the music when he’d visited home. From that, he’d formed a vague impression of Harry Styles as an interchangeable crooner of mediocre manufactured pop and as a teen idol so young that even thinking about finding him attractive was creepy.

Louis also enjoyed a bit of celebrity gossip from time to time, and Harry did pop up in the news occasionally.  Gossip sites told him that the fluffy-haired popstar was a childish goofball but also kind of a Hollywood tool and a notorious womanizer. Looking at it now, some of those parts didn’t seem very congruous, but then, he’d never really bothered to think much about it before.

Nothing about this night fit with what he thought he knew about Harry Styles.

Harry must be in his mid-twenties by now, Louis realized. His hair, still a little damp from his post-gig shower, was pulled back in a tiny bun, and he was dressed very casually: blue jeans, a threadbare old t-shirt, and a zip-up hoodie that concealed the tattoos on his arms. He didn’t look like a pop star or a rock star. Louis tried to tell himself that Harry looked kind of like a grad student having a casual night out, although he really looked more like a model who was relaxing on a day off at home. He was unfairly good-looking, and it was extra unfair that he kept making Louis pay attention to him and thus have to deal with the fact that this perfect specimen of man was _right there._

Harry didn’t make himself easy to ignore. He didn’t dominate the conversation, but he kept firing off these little zingers that made Louis crack up, or awful puns that _had_ to be met with loud groans. He kept asking Louis questions, too, which meant Louis had to keep looking at him.

It just didn’t make sense that this world-famous singer was sitting next to him, asking him about his opinions and looking at him like he really cared about the answers, bantering with his friends and drinking beer and throwing chips at people like it was any random night out in any random bar.

Louis watched Harry trying to flip some coasters and suddenly demanded, “I’m sorry, how are you so normal?”

Harry wrinkled his nose. It was strangely endearing. “Um? What do you mean?”

“You’re crazy,” Niall said. “Harry’s the weirdest fuckin’ guy I’ve ever met.”

“No, but, like, you’re just hanging out in some random pub with us, drinking beer and talking shit. Normal people stuff,” Louis explained.

“Well, what did you expect?” Harry asked, a little smile dancing across his lips.

“I don’t know. Getting some kind of face spa treatment thing, hanging out with Kardashians or something like that, drinking weird crystal-infused cocktails that cost fifty dollars, probably.”

“Oh, god.” Harry slapped his hands over his face, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

“Crystal-infused cocktails? Is that a thing?” Kim asked. “I kind of want one.”

Bressie scoffed. “It’s not a thing.”

Harry peeked out through his fingers. “No, it’s a thing.”

“I fucking knew it!” Louis crowed.

“They were good,” Clare said defensively. “And they didn’t cost fifty dollars.”

“I think they might lying about the crystals, if I’m honest,” Harry mused. “How would you know?”

“You’d know if it was infused with sodium chloride or potassium chloride,” Louis pointed out.

Niall balled up a napkin and threw it at him. It missed, which wasn’t much of a surprise considering how many beers Niall had already put away. “Oh, look at this guy showing off, ooh, look, I’m so smart, I can say salt in a fancy way.”

“Oh, shut up.”

The rest of the table continued debating the crystal question, but Louis didn’t really care. He still didn’t understand how Harry could be so confusing, so counter to his expectations. “Seriously, though. You’re actually having fun hanging out with normal people like me. This is so confusing to me.”

Harry tilted his head and said slowly, “I don’t think you’re normal, though.”

Louis clapped a hand to his chest. “Ouch.”

“No, I mean, like.” Harry frowned, seeming to search for words. “You’re a professor, right? So, what, you have a PhD, and you teach at a university? You must be incredibly clever and hard-working. So. You’re not normal. But, like, in a good way.”

“Oh. Well.” Louis felt strangely bashful. “I guess I don’t look at it that way.”

“Maybe you should,” Harry said seriously. “What’s your, like, specialization, anyway? What do you work on?”

“It’s probably not that interesting to you.” Louis laughed wryly. “Space physics. I’m focusing on plasma behavior right now with applications to understanding nebulae. I mean, I love it obviously, but, yeah, nerd shit.”

“Wow, no way.” Harry leaned his hand on his chin and looked at Louis like he was fascinated, green eyes wide. The flat tone made Louis think he was being sarcastic, but then Harry said, “I’ve actually been reading some, like, cosmology books on this tour. You know,  _A Brief History of Time,_ this one called _13.8,_ stuff like that.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, yeah. I feel like I don't understand half of it but it’s still really interesting. Kind of blows my mind. It’s amazing that you think about that all the time.”

Was Louis blushing? He really hoped not. “Well, to be fair, what I work on is just a little piece of that big puzzle.”

“Hm. But you can’t solve a puzzle if you’re missing pieces, right,” Harry said with a little shrug.

“That’s what I tell the grant committees,” Louis grinned.

Harry giggled, but when he stopped, he just looked at Louis. It was such an intense gaze, so focused. He bit his lip, then quietly, so quietly, said, “You could come up to my room later, if you wanted. To, um, talk about what I’ve been reading, of course?”

Harry smiled then, a tiny smile, full of mischief. Louis had been pretty sure, but the smile clinched it: Harry was propositioning him.

Supposedly, Louis had a great brain, but every sensible thought in his mind was wiped out by, _Oh my god, Harry Styles wants to fuck me, what the fucking fuck._ This was not a thought he was prepared to deal with. It was not one that he knew how to have a chill reaction to. There was only astonishment in his brain, and, probably, all over his face.

After a few seconds of Louis just staring, that little smile slipped off Harry’s face. He shrugged, tense and jerky, and turned back to the table, raised his drink to his lips. Louis looked away quickly. There was no doubt that he was blushing now; his only hope was that maybe the room was dark enough to conceal it.

The conversation at the rest of the table had never stopped. Louis tried to slip back in. It seemed like no one had noticed his exchange with Harry, but then Niall glanced at him and quickly raised an eyebrow, glancing between him and Harry. Louis gave a tiny shake of his head, and Niall looked away.

“I, uh. Be right back,” Louis said, standing suddenly. He just needed a moment. He walked quickly to the loo, which was thankfully empty. He turned the tap on and ran his wrists under the cool water for a while, then splashed some on his burning face. He should have a wee while he was in here, except he wasn’t so sure his dick would cooperate with that. A gorgeous, talented musician _had_ propositioned him, and, well. That was having an effect on him. With a grimace, he adjusted himself in his trousers, then stuck his hands under the cool water again.

The door creaked behind him. Louis ignored it, as bathroom etiquette dictated, but then he heard Harry’s slow voice. “Ah, okay, so that wasn’t a, like, meet-me-in-the-loo thing.”

Louis laughed nervously. He shook some water from his hands and turned. “Um, no? Sorry. I just needed to, uh, cool off.”

“To cool off?” Harry murmured. He stepped closer, his eyes trailing down Louis’ body. The bulge in Louis’ jeans wasn’t obvious, thanks to poor lighting and tight black denim, but it was there if one looked for it.

Harry was looking.

Louis grabbed the edge of the sink with one hand to steady himself. So much for cooling off. That definitely wasn’t happening, not with Harry looking at him like that, like he was something delicious and Harry wanted a taste.

Harry took another step toward him and rested a hand on the sink, not quite touching Louis’, just tantalizingly close. “Why would you need to cool off?”

Louis raised his chin defiantly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t say that.”

Harry laughed. The smooth seducer façade cracked; Harry’s smile was happy and boyish, so wide that the corners of his eyes crinkled and dimples popped in his cheeks. He pressed his lips together, still smiling but obviously trying to get his face under control.

“My mistake. I could’ve sworn you had.” Harry stepped even closer, so close that Louis could feel the heat of his body. Far, far too close for anyone to stand in a loo. He murmured, “That’s too bad. I could’ve done all sorts of things to help you… cool off. Eventually.”

Louis breathed in shakily. “Harry. Anyone could walk in here.”

“Hm.” Harry glanced back at the door, then raised an eyebrow at Louis. “I mean, there are stalls…”

Louis huffed out a little laugh. “I don’t think this is the kind of place where people bang in the stalls. And I’m pretty sure all your friends would notice if we were gone for that long.”

“So you want to take your time.”

“Uh.”

Harry chuckled. Softly, he said, “Okay, okay. But the offer to come back to mine stands. Let me know.”

Then he was gone, and Louis turned back to the sink to splash more cool water on himself, as if the fire inside him were something he could put out that easily.

He went back out and tried to ignore Harry, tried to be normal. Apparently Harry had told them all that Louis had an upset stomach. He was probably going to tune out and get lost in his thoughts anyway, so it was good that that gave him an excuse to be a little quiet, embarrassing though it was.

The thing was, he wasn’t typically a one-night-stand kind of guy. He’d done it now and again, sure, but it wasn’t his favorite kind of sex. He liked sex with someone familiar. He liked relationships. He liked having a lover or a boyfriend. He’d never, ever seen himself as the groupie starfucker type. Going home with Harry would be… weird. He’d sleep with this guy, and he’d probably never see him in person again, but he’d see him over and over on TV and on his computer screen. He’d hear his voice on the radio. He’d hear gossip about him. How bizarre that would be. Plus, Harry might not even be good in bed. He probably didn’t need to be.

That all seemed so insignificant, though, in the face of two crucial facts:

  1. Louis was lonely and horny and he hadn’t gotten laid in months.
  2. The most gorgeous man he’d ever seen in real life was, somehow, inexplicably hot for him.



It was sure to be a one-time thing, but, fuck, it was his one chance with Harry. Realistically, it was probably his one chance with any celebrity ever. It wasn’t something he’d ever aspired to, but why turn it down when it was offered to him on a silver platter? How many times in life had Louis said, _I’ll try anything once,_ after all? And here it was: his one chance to try this. And not with some random idiot, either, but with Harry, who was fit and beautiful and strange and enchanting.

Louis leaned close to Harry and whispered, “Okay.”

Harry turned his head and frowned for a moment, his forehead wrinkling. Louis thought he’d blown it all somehow, but then Harry’s face cleared and he gave Louis a surprised smile. “Really?”

“Yeah. I’m in.”

 _“Yeah_ you are.” Harry grinned and held up his hand for a fist-bump.

Louis snorted. “Oh my god, you’re awful,” he said, but he bumped his knuckles against Harry’s anyway.

He slipped back into the group’s conversation then and made a brave attempt at playing it cool. The ball was in Harry’s court now. Until the next step presented itself, he focused on enjoying the fact that he was out with all of these accomplished musicians who were also genuinely cool people.

Twenty minutes later, he felt a large hand grip his thigh, and he nearly jumped out of his chair.

“You all right, mate?” Harry asked. He was clearly trying to look concerned, but he couldn’t keep a smirk off his face.

Louis glared. “Yeah, just got a weird chill all of a sudden.”

He felt a crinkle of paper against his leg and reached down. His fingers brushed Harry’s, still on his leg, and then the paper. Harry’s hand squeezed his thigh again and then withdrew, leaving the note behind. Louis pocketed it and read it a few minutes later when he went to piss.

The note had the name of a hotel, a room number, and a comment: _Leave 20 minutes after me. I’ll pay for your taxi._

Louis rolled his eyes and slid the paper back into his pocket. He’d tell Harry later that he could afford a taxi, thank you very much.

Half an hour or so later, a fresh pitcher of beer had just arrived at the table when Harry yawned theatrically and announced, “Sorry, all, but I’m knackered. I think I’m out.”

There was a chorus of jeers from the table, but Harry just shook his head and smiled. “I know, I know. I’ll see you all later.” He made eye contact with Louis, but didn’t give anything else away. With a little wave and little ceremony, he left.

Louis filled his glass from the pitcher. “Should we just let him leave like that?”

Niall waved his hand dismissively. “Yeah, he’s fine. His security was waiting outside. He knows how to handle his life.”

“Must be crazy.”

“He manages.” Niall shrugged. “It’s interesting, hanging out with him and thinking about what it’d be like if we made it big. It’s a double-edged sword, for sure.”

Bressie said, “You don’t see a lot of people giving it up, though.”

“Hmm.” Louis sipped his beer and tried not to count the minutes.

To his surprise, they didn’t let him go as easily as they did with Harry. Niall checked again that he had Louis’ number and followed him on Twitter. “If you ever come to Ireland and we’re not on tour, you’ve gotta come visit. Non-negotiable.”

“I promise. Seriously, thanks for inviting me out. This was great. Most fun I’ve had in weeks.”

“Absolutely, mate. Tell Lottie we all said hi.”

After another round of hugs, they let him go, over half an hour since Harry had left the pub. Louis rushed to find a cab and finally he was on his way to his little late-night rendezvous. His stomach twisted suddenly. Was he really doing this? It wasn’t too late to ask the driver to turn around.

He thought then about Harry looking him up and down, Harry’s heat as he stood over him in the bathroom, Harry squeezing his thigh. He thought about the things those lips and those fingers could do to him. He thought about undressing Harry, gorgeous Harry, peeling his clothes off and—

Louis shivered. He didn’t tell the driver to stop. He counted out his cash in the last few blocks so he could hand over the payment and a generous tip with no delay as soon as the taxi reached the hotel.

The hotel was, of course, posh as hell. The cavernous lobby had pale grey floors that must have been a nightmare to keep clean, dark wood walls, and trendy furniture that mixed clean modern lines with rustic materials. Louis felt conspicuous and out-of-place, but he’d learned well over the years that confidence and a fake-it-til-you-make-it attitude went a long way. Sometimes, all you had to do to belong somewhere was to act like you did.

He walked purposefully through the lobby with a little swagger in his step, found the elevators, and headed right up to Harry’s floor. A little part of his mind was screaming about how mad this was, but he ignored it and knocked gently on the door.

Then he waited.

A minute later, he rapped more firmly. He peeked at the note in his pocket, wondering if he’d gotten the place wrong, if he should just leave – but then the door opened and there was Harry, beaming and inviting him in.

He kind of expected to be jumped immediately, but instead Harry just graciously waved him into the living room and sauntered over to the small bar. “Can I get you a drink?”

Louis stared. “There’s a literal bar in your hotel room.”

“I know.” Harry smiled and shook his head. “It’s a bit over-the-top, isn’t it? Sorry. But, since it’s here, do you want something?”

“I don’t know. I’ll have what you’re having,” Louis said vaguely. He stared while Harry scooped ice and deftly poured from a few bottles. “You changed.”

“Mm-hm.” Harry didn’t look up from his task. He was now wearing ripped black jeans and, of all things, a leopard-print blouse. He’d let his hair down, too. Dark brown and soft-looking, it curled gently around his jaw.

Louis stepped up to the bar and leaned on it. “That’s not fair. I feel like I’m not up to standard now. Maybe I should go home and change, too.”

“Oi,” Harry protested, frowning up at him. “Don’t be mean. I was just trying to look nice. And you look good.”

Louis laughed softly. “You know what the solution here is, right?”

“What?”

“Well, we’d be equal if neither of us was wearing any clothes.”

Harry snorted and grinned at him. He held out a now-full glass. “Excellent point. Here, come sit for a sec.”

Louis followed Harry to the sofa and took the opportunity to look around. The place was more like a flat than a hotel room, and not a small one, either. It was furnished in a mix of dark earth tones and gleaming metal and glass. Everything looked luxurious and perfectly placed. There was a large living area with two sofas and armchairs, a desk, a dining area, and even a little kitchen, though he couldn’t imagine anyone using it. There were a few doors – presumably there was a separate bedroom somewhere. Through floor-to-ceiling windows, he glimpsed the lights of the city below.

“You stay in places like this all the time?” Louis asked, settling on the sofa.

“Sometimes.” Harry propped an arm on the back of the sofa and turned toward him. “Not usually _this_ nice if I’m only here for a night, because what’s the point, but, yeah. They didn’t have much left by the time we booked, so.”

Louis sipped his drink and just looked at Harry. For once, he didn’t feel the need to fill a silence. Harry really was ridiculously handsome. It felt like an indulgence to simply look at him, study him, try to wrap his head around the fact that he was here.

Harry, for his part, seemed content to do the same in return. He sipped his drink and looked Louis over with a small smile.

“I feel like I should be kissing you by now,” Louis said conversationally.

Harry grinned, dimple popping, but his expression quickly sobered. “I have to ask you something first.” He sighed, raking a hand through his hair. “I have to ask you not to tell anyone about this. I know that’s shitty to ask, and, like, obviously I think you’re a nice person, so I don’t think you would, but, I still have to ask. So. Yeah, sorry.”

Louis did feel a little offended by the question, but he understood why Harry would ask. “Oh. No, I get it.” Louis pressed a hand to his chest. “I don’t plan to kiss and tell. Promise.”

“Thanks. Sorry.” Harry sighed again. “Kind of a mood killer, huh?”

Louis waved his hand vaguely. “Well, you’re still here looking like that, so the mood can only get so killed.”

Harry smiled. “Really? I thought killed was, like, you are or you aren’t. You can’t be a little bit pregnant, or a little bit killed.”

Jesus, he was cute.

Louis plucked the glass out of Harry’s hand to set their drinks down on the coffee table. He half-stood and swung a leg over Harry’s to let himself land in his lap. Harry immediately wrapped his arms around Louis, pulling him in. He felt warm and strong. Louis rested his hands on Harry’s shoulders and leaned in and, wow, it hit him again that here was this guy who he’d only ever seen in magazines before, and he’d just hopped into his lap.

Harry didn’t have any such hang-ups. When Louis hesitated, Harry leaned in and kissed him, sweet and soft and slow, a moment like dripping honey. It was a kiss that said, _Take your time. We’re not in any hurry._

It was lovely and it was perfect – until Louis ruined it.

He just started laughing. He pulled back, shaking his head, and said, “I’m sorry. Give me a sec. This is just so crazy.”

“Stop, it’s not crazy,” Harry protested gently, rubbing Louis’ back.

“You’re super famous and gorgeous, and for some reason you’ve taken _me_ back to your room. It’s kind of surreal.”

“Hey, stop. I’m just a person. And I like you.” He shrugged. “We’re both just people.”

“Hmm.” Louis smoothed his hands down Harry’s chest. “You’re a special person, though.”

“Well, so are you. Stop making it weird,” Harry said, laughing, which made Louis laugh too.

“Sorry.”

Harry licked his lips. “You want me, right?”

Just like that, Louis felt hot all over, because god, did he ever. Harry’s lips were wet and full and _right there,_ and oh, all the things they could do.

“Yeah,” he whispered, cupping Harry’s jaw in his hand. “I really, really do.”

He lunged forward to capture Harry’s lips in a bruising kiss. Harry gasped, his lips parting, and, _there,_ his tongue on Louis’, there was the heat and fire, their hips pressed together, their lips moving against each other. Yes. This was how it worked.

He was so hot; he was burning. He slipped a hand into the deep vee of Harry’s half-unbuttoned shirt, ran his hand over the skin, soft and so warm. There should really be less shirt and more skin. He deepened the kiss, Harry letting his head fall back against the sofa with a little sigh that went straight to Louis’ groin, and he started undoing the buttons. Then he could spread his hands over Harry’s ribs, feeling every little gasp and moan and twitch under his fingers. God, Harry was lovely, and Louis was dizzyingly hard, but he wasn’t ready to do anything about it yet.

He turned his head, kissed the corner of Harry’s mouth, his cheek, along his jaw. He’d noticed it before, this astonishingly sculptural jawline, and now he could run his tongue along it. It was so weird and wonderful that he actually whimpered a little. He started sucking just underneath the point of Harry’s jaw, and—

“Hey,” Harry yelped, pushing at his chest. “Marks.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Louis protested, although he wasn’t sure that was true. He went to lean back in, but Harry pushed him back again. He was almost offended until he realized that Harry was going for his t-shirt and pulling it up.

“Get this off,” Harry muttered, frowning deeply, adorably. Louis held his arms up obediently and let Harry strip his shirt off. Harry grabbed him around the waist and twisted, and with a disorienting lurch that made him yelp in surprise, Louis was suddenly on his back lying on the couch, Harry hovering over him.

“I want to look at you,” Harry said, his eyes roaming Louis’ body hungrily.

Louis squirmed, suddenly nervous, but Harry held him tight. _Oh, no._ He knew Harry was at least five years younger than him with the kind of body whose maintenance was a part-time job in itself. Louis hit the gym a few times a week, true, but he had the body of a moderately active professor, not that of a modern rock star.

Harry, though, Harry looked at him like – well, like he wanted him. He smoothed a hand down Louis’ body, teasing over a nipple and across his stomach, and murmured, “God, I want…” He didn’t finish the thought, but he reached down and gave his own dick a squeeze, looking at Louis with the same hunger that was surely in Louis’ eyes, too.

Louis reached out almost without intention, popping open the button of Harry’s too-tight jeans. Nobody had ever accused Louis of not saying what was on his mind. _“I_ want your cock.”

Harry gasped, his hips bucking against Louis’. “Y-yeah?”

He opened Harry’s flies and pulled his underwear away from his body, trying to peek. He caught a flash of neatly-trimmed pubic hair; then Harry reached into his trousers, fishing around rather gracelessly, and pulled out an absolute beauty of a cock.

It was long and straight, the head flushed a deep shiny red, just the right size to fill Louis’ mouth and stretch his jaw. He watched Harry’s hand wrap around himself, give himself a few pulls, and that was a sight he could watch for a while if he didn’t have even better things to do. “I want you in my mouth,” he said, and he could actually see Harry’s hand twitch, the way he gripped that lovely cock so tight with a gasp.

Harry scrambled up off the sofa and started peeling off his tight jeans. “Take yours off, too?”

“If you insist.” Louis sat up quickly to pull his own trousers off, then let himself fall back against the seat cushions. “Come here.”

“Like that?” Harry asked uncertainly.

Louis raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me somewhere else?”

“No, that’s. I mean, yeah, if you want.”

“Well, come here then.” Louis smirked and and licked his lips.

Harry planted a knee on either side of Louis’ body, straddling him, and shuffled forward. When Louis looked up to meet his eyes, Harry’s expression was suddenly almost shy, his body language tentative. Louis had thought he’d known what Harry would want, but now he wondered if he had misjudged him. He’d already done that about a dozen times tonight, so, it was likely. Well, fuck it. You didn’t have to be toppy to enjoy sitting on someone’s face.

“I said come _here,”_ he said impatiently, grabbing Harry’s hips and pulling, urging closer.

Harry giggled nervously and finally he was close enough for Louis to wrap his lips around the crown, sucking and stroking with his tongue. “Oh god,” Harry moaned. He fell forward, his hands hitting the arm of the couch with a slap, which, _finally,_ brought Harry fully within his reach. Louis wasted no time wrapping a hand around Harry’s cock and urging him closer with a hand on his ass. Finally he could run his lips along Harry’s length, tasting his skin, getting a feel for him. He teased until Harry’s breath was coming fast, his hips moving in little jerks that he was clearly trying to control, and then at last he took Harry into his mouth.

Harry moaned long and low, moving in shallow thrusts. Louis didn’t mind his tentativeness now – Harry was big and he certainly couldn’t deep-throat him at this angle. Louis loved this, though, loved wrapping his lips around Harry’s cock, hearing his little sounds, Harry looming over him, powerful but so careful with him. When he looked up, he saw Harry’s abs, his hips framed by laurel tattoos. Harry was looking down at him, his eyes wide and fascinated, sweat on his brow. There was so much tension in his arms, in his chest. He was holding back.

Louis gripped his ass, squeezing _hard,_ urging Harry on. Harry shuddered, letting out a throaty moan, but then he pulled back to sit on Louis’ chest. “Sorry, sorry. Just – too much,” he gasped.

Louis rubbed his hands up and down Harry’s firm thighs. “I don’t mind.”

Harry slid down to plant his ass on Louis’ lap, which Louis’ cock definitely did not mind, and leaned forward to kiss him. When he was in control, he kissed like he talked, slow and careful, artfully lazy. For long minutes, Louis lost himself in the slow slide of lips on lips and hands on skin.

Harry finally pulled back with a sigh, kissing Louis’ earlobe and then down his neck. “Do you want to fuck me?”

“I – well, sure, yeah,” Louis said, shivering as Harry’s lips brushed the side of his neck. “Is that what you want?”

Harry nodded.

Well, all right, then.

Louis was a versatile bloke in many ways, and he certainly wouldn’t say no to any opportunity to get that magnificent cock inside him, but – oh, yes, he was very, _very_ willing to fuck Harry.

He grabbed Harry’s hips and grinded up against him. It was almost too much, pleasure mixing with uncomfortable pressure, but he liked the way it made Harry shiver and throw his head back. “Yeah, I’m up for that,” Louis said, just in case it wasn’t incredibly obvious.

Harry climbed off him and held out a hand, pulling Louis up to stand as well. “Come on, I’ve got stuff in the bedroom.”

Louis trailed behind him, watching his pert little ass as he walked. He hadn’t been thinking about positions, but in that moment he decided that if he had his way, he was definitely going to have to take Harry from behind at some point tonight.

In the bedroom – and how ridiculous was this that a hotel room had an entire separate full-sized bedroom? – Harry pulled open the drawer of the nightstand to produce a strip of condoms and two little bottles of lube.

Louis chuckled. “Do you stock your nightstand at every place? Or do posh hotels just provide lube and condoms?”

Harry rolled his eyes, blushing a little. “Well, I knew you were coming.”

“Oh, just for me, huh?” Louis teased, not believing that for a second. He reached for the bottles to check out his options. “You’re so prepared.”

“I’m not yet,” Harry countered, letting himself fall onto the bed. He held out a hand for the lube. “Gimme.”

“What?!” Louis clasped his hands to his chest, lube and all, fixing Harry with his most outraged look. “And what, I’m just supposed to sit here while you have all the fun? As _if.”_

Harry laughed, loud and bright. “You’re so funny,” he said, looking up at Louis with sparkling eyes.

“Bloody right I am,” Louis said, putting one of the little bottles back on the night stand and crawling up onto the bed with the other. Harry was so beautiful, long limbs sprawled out on the bed, a smile on his lush lips. All those _tattoos._ Louis just wanted to lick them, and in this strange fever-dream of a night, he was allowed to, so he did. He pressed a wet, smacking kiss to one of the birds on Harry’s chest and delighted in Harry’s little giggles. He took one of Harry’s nipples into his mouth and sucked, coaxing Harry to moan and writhe a little, and – right, he had a mission here.

He popped open the cap and managed to squeeze a little lube into one hand. His lips moved down to the butterfly on Harry’s stomach as he brought his hand down in between Harry’s spread legs. Harry sighed happily as Louis stroked a finger over his hole. “Yes.”

He propped himself up on his arm to watch Harry’s face as he eased a finger into him, eliciting another sigh from Harry as his eyes slid shut. Louis could practically see Harry relaxing his body and letting go of tension. Louis drew his finger in and out a few times, just feeling him, just watching him. “I can take another one,” Harry said dreamily.

“Already? No, not yet.”

“Louis,” Harry said plaintively. He opened his eyes and frowned up at Louis. “Please.”

“You…” Louis kissed him, because, really, how could he not. He sucked on Harry’s lower lip and slid a second finger in. He felt it on his lips when Harry gasped, felt the roll of Harry’s hips and the clench around his fingers. Now he could get a little deeper, play around a bit, look for—

Harry suddenly arched his back and moaned loudly. His kiss turned desperate, grabbing Louis and kissing him hard as Louis stroked over his prostate. “I almost want to make you come just like this,” Louis murmured against his lips. “Just play with you and watch you fall apart.”

“Oh god,” Harry moaned, clapping a hand to Louis’ wrist and trying to stop his hand from moving. “Thought you were gonna – gonna fuck me.”

“I really want to do that, too.” Louis sighed. “Life is so difficult.”

Harry laughed breathlessly. He wrapped his other hand around Louis’ neglected cock and said, “Yeah, it seems really _hard_ right now.”

“Oi!” Louis flexed his fingers, pressing against Harry’s prostate with a force that made Harry gasp and twitch.

 _“Louis,”_ Harry whined. “Don’t be cruel.”

“Hm. Not sure you really mean that,” Louis said, finally pulling his fingers out of Harry and wiping them on the bed. That was maybe a little gross, but he didn’t give a fuck at the moment.

Harry watched with unabashed hunger as Louis rolled a condom onto his dick and slicked himself up. “How do you want me?”

“However.”

“Pick something.”

Louis stroked himself slowly. “On your back, then. I want to see you.”

Harry smiled, dimple popping in his cheek. Too bloody cute, honestly. He grabbed a pillow to shove under his hips, and Louis knee-walked over to him. He grabbed under Harry’s knees and pulled his legs up. “God, you’re gorgeous,” he said. Harry probably heard it all the time, but he _was._ Louis took a moment again to appreciate how amazing this was. Here he was kneeling over Harry Styles, Harry Styles completely naked, stroking his hard cock, waiting for Louis to fuck him.

Begging him, actually. “Please. Louis, please. Need you.”

“Yeah, I know, baby,” Louis said automatically, shifting closer and lining himself up with one hand. He watched the head of his cock nudge up against Harry’s entrance, felt the resistance and then the yield as he slid in, watched Harry’s body open for him and take him in. He felt so good, so tight, as Louis sank into him. It took all his self-control to stay slow and gentle.

“Need to get fucked, huh?” he asked, his gaze darting up to Harry’s face. Harry moaned at that and nodded. His eyes were wide and so so green. “You okay?”

Harry nodded again, reaching down to feel where their bodies joined, feeling Louis’ cock easing into him. He gasped out, “Good. Great. God, you…”

Louis started thrusting, slowly and shallowly at first. His body was begging for more but he knew he should let Harry adjust. God, he was inside Harry, holding his legs open and pushing his cock into _Harry Styles’ ass,_ and he really needed to stop thinking about him like that, because he was just another person, right, but also he was basically the most beautiful and charming man Louis had ever seen and he was somehow letting Louis have sex with him, and Louis just needed to _stop thinking._

“More?” Louis asked.

“Yes,” Harry hissed, grabbing for Louis’ hips and pulling him in, and, _okay._

Louis pulled out and snapped his hips forward, giving Harry his whole length in one quick thrust. He did it again and again, holding Harry’s legs up and rolling his hips. He felt unbelievable, amazing, that wet heat, that perfect squeeze sliding up and down his cock. Every thrust punched a gasp or a moan out of Harry; his eyes fell shut in pleasure, his hands holding onto Louis, urging him on, loving it.

He let go of Harry’s legs and let himself fall forward, bracing on the bed. Harry wrapped his legs around Louis and he just had to kiss him, grinding against Harry and fucking shallowly, fucking into his mouth with his tongue. Harry was sweaty and loud and so eager, pulling Louis in with his legs, sucking Louis’ tongue into his mouth, taking everything and begging for more.

“Jesus,” Louis groaned, dropping his head to Harry’s shoulder and stilling for a moment. Harry whined, pulling at Louis with his legs, urging him to move. Louis kissed Harry’s neck and said, “Sorry, sorry. Just give me a sec.”

An idea hit him then, and he sat back and pulled out. Harry gave another little whine of protest and frowned at him. “What’re you doing?”

“You’ve got this massive suite here. We can’t only fuck in the _bed.”_ Louis grabbed the lube and walked out into the living room, trusting that Harry would follow, and surveyed the possibilities. “Here, come on,” he said, holding a hand out behind him. Harry grabbed it and Louis pulled him through the room.

One corner of the living room had floor-to-ceiling windows on both walls. There was a dining table set a few feet away from the windows. It was probably a lovely place to eat breakfast and watch the sun come up over the city, but Louis was suddenly sure that the very best use of it was as a place to fuck your lover while looking out over the city lights.

“I want you bent over the table,” Louis directed.

Harry’s face and chest were flushed. He bit his lip and looked uncertain. “In front of the windows?”

“No one can possibly see in. We’re way too high up,” Louis said, drizzling some lube on his hard cock. He grinned. “We’ll look out over them, and no one will have any idea what we’re doing.”

He reached for Harry with his clean hand, pulling him for a slow kiss, letting their cocks rub against each other. Softly, he said, “I really want to fuck you over that table. Want to take you from behind, want to spread you out in front of those windows. Will you let me?”

Harry pulled back, his cheeks even redder than before. He looked half-stunned, his eyes dazed and bright, his breath shaky. He bit his lip again. Louis reckoned that he had finally read Harry right, because he looked unbearably turned on as he nodded his assent. Louis put a hand on his shoulder to spin him around toward the table. “Bend over.”

Harry obeyed, just like that. He rested his elbows and forearms on the table and looked back at Louis, still chewing on his lip, and with the messy, rumpled curls framing his face, he looked innocent and debauched all at once. Bending over emphasized his ass even more, firm and round and pale, so – _available_ was the word that came to Louis’ mind.

He stepped up and rubbed his cock in between Harry’s cheeks, then rubbed his hands up and down Harry’s body. This position emphasized the long lean lines of his torso and the enticing little flare of softness at his hips. It was impossible not to admire him and want to touch him.

Harry groaned, dropping his head to his hands. “Teasing me again.”

Louis grinned and reached for more lube – he’d probably rubbed most of it off against Harry by now. “Sorry. It’s just so fun.”

“Come on, please.”

“I like it when you beg.” He planted a hand in the small of Harry’s back and, with no more warning than that, slid into him in a single thrust.

Harry growled out, “Yes, yes,” and Louis kept right on fucking him. He could tell that Harry was ready for it, wanted it, just like he did.

“God, you feel so good,” Louis moaned, watching his cock moving in and out of Harry, taking his pleasure. He felt like he was on fire; every movement made him burn hotter. “Look so perfect like this, bent over for me, taking me so well.”

Harry moaned even louder at that, moving to muffle himself against his arm. Ah, he’d liked that.

It was a thrill to look up and see the city lights below them, to know that he was fucking Harry with all of Boston at their feet, but it was much more of a thrill to watch Harry. His skin was slick with sweat, and he kept moving, folding his hands in front of him and resting his head on them, then reaching out to grip the table and press his chest to the table, then back again. He was so restless, so overwhelmed, so needy.

He kept moving against Louis, too. Experimentally, Louis stopped moving altogether. It didn’t take long for Harry to brace himself on the table and start fucking back on him, and god, was that hot. “So desperate, babe,” Louis murmured, rubbing Harry’s back and letting him do it. It was fun to watch him struggle for it, but he didn’t have the leverage that Louis did. After a little while, Louis couldn’t resist anymore. He grabbed his hips and started fucking him in earnest. “Yes, please, oh,” Harry cried, and then the room was filled with the sound of skin slapping on skin, Louis fucking him so hard that even his balls were swinging and slapping against Harry’s. Harry felt so tight and hot on him, every thrust driving Louis’ pleasure higher, and he had a feeling that this might be it.

He wrapped his hand around Harry’s cock and started wanking him. Maybe he’d make Harry come all over this table. After a minute, though, Harry grabbed his hand to stop him and said, “Wait, wait. Wanna ride you.”

“God, yeah, of course,” Louis said, stopping his movements instantly. If Harry was finally going to express some specific desire, Louis definitely wasn’t going to say no. “Back in the bedroom, or…?”

Harry propped himself up on his hands and looked around. The way he twisted his body did… _interesting_ things on Louis’ cock. Louis couldn’t help but thrust into him a few times more. Harry gasped, but managed to say, “Too far away. There’s a rug here.”

And so there was, a plush carpet under and around the sofas, just a little farther from the windows. It wouldn’t be as comfortable as a bed, but it was hot as hell that Harry didn’t want to be off of Louis’ cock for a second longer than he had to. Louis pulled out gently and laid himself out on the rug. Harry didn’t make him wait. He scrambled into position and, almost before Louis was even fully situated, he was sinking down onto Louis’ cock with a breathy moan.

Louis let him set the pace. Harry riding him was a divine experience. The way he moved his hips had him seeing stars. Harry had his hand on his cock, stroking himself, his mouth open and moaning, fucking Louis just how he wanted.

“That’s so fucking hot,” Louis said, rubbing Harry’s legs. It was a mesmerizing sight: Harry’s face twisted in pleasure, his abs flexing with each movement of his body, his wonderful fingers working that gorgeous dick.

“Are you close?” Harry gasped.

“Not gonna last much longer if you keep doing that, yeah.”

“Good.” Harry let go of himself to plant his hands on the floor on either side of Louis’ side, which let him fuck down onto Louis even faster and harder.

“Oh my god,” Louis moaned.

“Touch me?” Harry asked.

Louis quickly wrapped a hand around Harry’s hot, heavy cock. “Yes, babe, of course,” he sighed, stroking him fast and hard, trying to copy what Harry had been doing. He was nearly lost in sensation, spiraling higher and higher.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, like that,” Harry babbled, and then he was coming with a wail, his dick pulsing in Louis’ hand, spilling all over Louis’ chest and stomach, his body clenching around Louis’ cock and taking him right to the edge. After Harry batted his hand away, Louis grabbed his hips and fucked up into him, chasing his release. It only took a few thrusts into Harry before Louis’ orgasm crashed through him, an unbelievable rush of pleasure through his body that had him crying out, grasping desperately at Harry and coming deep inside him.

He came down slowly, gasping and breathless, Harry pressing little kisses to his cheeks and neck before kissing him softly on the mouth. Louis rubbed his back and sighed. “Oh my god.”

Harry smiled. “Good?”

“Amazing.”

Harry beamed at him. “Yeah. For me, too. So, uh, you want to see the shower?”

 

* * *

 

The shower was magnificent. It had two massive shower heads plus an extra handheld one, so they basically _had_ to shower together. It would have been a waste not to. They laughed and kissed and splashed each other, and Louis couldn’t have explained why he felt so comfortable with Harry, but he did. They wrapped up in plush bathrobes after, Harry’s hair in an elegantly twisted towel-turban. Louis put a towel on his head, too, just to match. It started slipping around almost immediately, though. He’d never needed to get a knack for the hair-towel.

Self-conscious, Louis wondered if he should be thinking about leaving. Had Harry dropped any hints yet? As late as it was, he was kind of hoping to stay through what remained of the night, but he had no idea what the etiquette was in this case.

“I’m hungry,” Harry announced, fetching a binder from a desk in the living room. “Do you want some food? Let’s get room service.”

“Do they have room service this late?”

“I think so? I’ve never had a place this posh fail to feed me.”

“Hmm. Well, I could eat.”

So he ended up sprawled across the king-sized hotel bed, still half-wrapped in his bathrobe, sleepily nibbling from little containers of hummus and chips and fruit and chicken. Harry was actually trying to ask Louis questions about astrophysics. He was too tired for his questions to really make sense, but it was an entertaining sight, Harry lying naked across the bed with his eyes half-closed, trying to say something coherent about black holes.

“Maybe we should get some sleep,” Louis suggested gently.

“No! I’m not done with you yet. This was just regaining strength,” Harry said. He yawned.

“You’re literally about to fall asleep.”

“No, nope.” To Louis’ surprise, Harry managed to push himself up into a sitting position. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. “I mean, unless you’re too tired to go again.”

“I’m so tired I think I’m gonna die, but yes, I could go again.”

“Don’t die yet,” Harry said. Then he launched himself at Louis.

Louis fell back under an onslaught of kisses, laughing. “Where did this energy come from?”

“From all the food. That’s how food works. Now hush,” Harry scolded, kissing his way down Louis’ neck, down his chest, down to his nipples.

It was wonderful and it was all confusing. Louis had come here expecting to give a blowjob, maybe get fucked or _maybe_ get to fuck Harry if he were especially lucky. He expected that a man who could have anyone he wanted would be a selfish lover. Louis had been fully prepared to get on his knees, suck some celebrity dick, and then jerk off to the memory for the next few weeks (or months, or years).

He hadn’t been prepared for showering together and midnight snacks and Harry, flushed and beautiful, kissing reverently down his body.

“So, you – you must do this all the time, huh?” Louis asked breathlessly.

Harry’s lips trailed further down Louis’ front. He ran his fingers along Louis’ chest, in swirls down the soft plane of his stomach, and he never pulled his mouth away, so his answer came out muffled. “Do what?”

“You know.” Louis sighed and giggled a little as Harry licked across his abs. “Play a show, find a – a man, take him to bed?”

“What? No,” Harry said with a little frown. He started sucking a bruise into Louis’ hip.

Louis gasped. That _hurt,_ but in the best way. His cock twitched, and, okay, so he was ready to go again. He propped himself up an elbow and watched as Harry frowned in concentration, his mouth worrying at Louis’ skin. “Fuck. What d’you mean, no?”

Harry pulled off Louis’ skin with a pop and looked down at the angry red skin with a satisfied expression. Then he started kissing down lower, lower, and Louis thought he wouldn’t answer and also thought maybe he didn’t need to care anymore, but as Harry’s lips brushed the edge of Louis’ pubic hair, he murmured, “No, I don’t do this often.”

Then he started mouthing at the base of Louis’ cock, and, well, Louis wasn’t going to press the issue. There were better things to do.

Harry took his time, slowly sliding his lips along Louis’ length. It was such a tease – just enough sensation to turn him on another little bit, to make him desperate for more. Harry’s lips were so red and he had an expression of such concentration on his face, savoring the moment and exploring every inch of Louis with soft lips and gentle fingers. Louis groaned, “Jesus.”

“Like how you taste,” Harry murmured. Finally he wrapped his lips around just the head of Louis’ dick, suckling and licking at it. Louis grabbed the sheets and tried desperately to keep himself under control. Between the lovely feeling in his dick and the sight of Harry’s full lips encircling his cock, he felt like he was halfway there in a moment.

Then Harry looked up at him, those green eyes peering up through his lashes as he sucked Louis’ cock, and Louis was pretty sure that he almost died. The strangled sound he made was inhuman.

Harry started bobbing up and down then, and, no, now he really was going to die.

So apparently Harry didn’t have a gag reflex. How did this guy get more amazing every minute?

“Wait a second,” Louis croaked, pushing at Harry’s head.

Harry frowned. His lips were all shiny with spit. “What?”

“Lay on your side.”  

Harry rolled to one side, still looking concerned, but he grinned when he realized Louis was laying down parallel to him, head level with Harry's groin. “Really?”

“I hope you don’t mind doing it the lazy way,” Louis said, taking Harry’s cock into his hand and swiping his thumb through the bit of wetness at the tip. “I don’t know about you, but _I’m_ too tired to hold myself up.”

Harry laughed. “I’m not going to complain about getting to sixty-nine.”

“Good lad,” Louis said warmly, taking Harry into his mouth.

Harry followed suit a moment later. He was taking it slow, swallowing Louis down – quite literally, Louis could _feel_ his throat muscles around the tip of his cock. It was amazing. It took all of Louis’ concentration to keep sucking Harry and not just give himself over to his own pleasure. Trying to focus on blowing Harry at least meant that at least he wouldn’t come too embarrassingly quickly.

When he felt Harry’s finger stroke across his hole, he moaned. It was loud and desperate, but he didn’t hold back - he certainly didn’t want to discourage what Harry was doing. He also knew how good the vibration would feel on Harry’s cock.

“Okay?” Harry asked.

“Mm-hmm,” Louis hummed through his full mouth. Harry slid a finger into him – somehow slick, and Louis wasn’t sure with what sleight of hand he’d managed that, but then again he’d had other things to capture his attention. He worked up to two fingers quickly. The movement of Harry’s fingers had Louis moaning constantly. He was maybe playing it up a little, but mostly he just felt that fucking good.

He popped off Harry’s cock for a moment to gasp, “I don’t – don’t think I can last much longer,” before taking Harry back into his mouth again.

“’S okay, babe. Wanna make you feel good,” Harry said.

He sped up then, not taking Louis as deep, but his mouth sucking and licking up and down Louis’ length was a quicker-burning sort of pleasure. It was wet and sloppy – Louis could feel Harry’s spit dripping down him, dripping off onto the sheets. The thought flashed through his mind that he’d add his come to that soon, filling Harry’s mouth and maybe spilling down his cheek, and with a muffled shout, he came.

For a moment, he was lost in sensation. All he could do was hold Harry in his mouth and breathe through it. When he could, he started to move again, wrapping his hand now around what his mouth couldn’t take.

Harry reached down and cupped the back of Louis’ head in his hand, moving his hips in time with Louis’ sucks. Such a lovely show of neediness there. He didn’t thrust too hard – still so polite – and Louis rewarded him by redoubling his efforts. It was tiring, his jaw aching, but he was so close now.

“Gonna come,” Harry moaned. Louis took him as deep as he could and stroked him through it, soon rewarded by a mouthful of come and a glorious shout from Harry.

Louis let his head fall to the bed, breathing hard. Harry was petting his hip, his forehead against Louis’ thighs. “Come up here?” he asked softly.

Louis sighed, loud and exaggerated, but then he spun and crawled up the bed to fall into place alongside Harry. Harry kissed him gently and said, “Mm. That was fun.”

“It was.”

Harry slid down a little to tuck his head under Louis’ chin. “Just resting my eyes. Don’t laugh at me.”

“Of course,” Louis smiled, stroking Harry’s hair and letting his own eyes slide closed.

They did actually fall asleep then, sweat-sticky and tangled together. When Louis woke, there was a faint light coming in through the windows. Nearly dawn, then. He didn’t feel great. He hadn’t had anywhere near enough sleep; he felt heavy and half-sick with it. His mouth was tasted awful. A raging thirst and a headache warned him of the hangover that was already building.

It took a few minutes, but he managed to muster up the will to rise. He walked naked to the bathroom, pissed, and drank a cup of water. Back in the bedroom, he sat down on the edge of the bed and watched Harry in the soft pre-dawn light. He was lying on his side, the blanket pulled up to his waist. His chest moved with gentle breaths. His face was slack and soft with sleep, his hair a mess on the pillow. His lips were noticeably pink even in the greyish light. His mouth was open wide. It was almost comical, except it also made Louis think that he could just stick his dick in Harry’s mouth, and – okay, no, that’d be rude, probably. It was fun to think about, though. Louis reached down and wrapped his hand around his cock, giving it a few idle tugs. Amazing that he was getting hard again already. He should be well-satisfied by now, but Harry made him feel like a teenager.

The responsible corner of his mind whispered that if he went home now, he could get a few hours of sleep, wake up, and get some writing done before his sister arrived. That would be the smart thing to do.

A much louder part of his mind noted that, although it would probably be rude to wake Harry by expecting him to give a blowjob, it was a rare man who objected to being woken up by _receiving_ a blow job. Who knew where things might go from there.

He leaned over and gently pulled the blankets down Harry’s body. Harry stirred a little, but he didn’t open his eyes. Louis allowed himself a long, indulgent moment to admire Harry’s form in the soft twilight before he gently eased himself down the bed to get into position. If he only had one night with Harry, he was going to make every moment of it count.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed it, kudos/comments are much appreciated.   
> Rebloggable post is [here](https://fakedeepplantjerker.tumblr.com/post/168896691365/caught-my-attention-by) if you're into that!


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